


Flesh

by Lilium125



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Concerts, Consensual Underage Sex, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, The Flesh Curtains, Underage Sex, Van - Freeform, bassist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24840307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilium125/pseuds/Lilium125
Summary: « Do you want to see me play at a concert? », Rick turned back to Morty, pointing the portalgun at his feet, whose fluid for interdimensional travel inside the glass cylinder had a different color, fluorescent pink. Morty instinctively took a step back. « What? ». « Have fun, Morty ». Rick fired the gap right under the boy, who fell inside. The portal was also of a different color, no longer acid green, but pink like the crystal of the time. Rick watched the gap close and went back to the work counter, looking at the bottom of the box with the band's memories with a satisfied grin.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	1. The concert

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RickishMorty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickishMorty/gifts).



> Happy Birthday RickishMorty <3

Morty was sitting at the desk in his room. He was busy doing his homework, but if he normally had trouble concentrating, he just couldn't do it that afternoon. He had been reading the same sentence in the history book for at least ten minutes, while his thoughts galloped and gave him no respite. Two days had passed since Earth had been catapulted into a music show by those giant heads of the Cromulons and Morty still had no peace. Birdperson's words echoed in his head, but especially the photos he had seen at his house. That child in Rick's arms, who the hell was he? Not him, he was sure of this, or he would have recognized himself. In any case, Birdperson hadn't answered him when he asked.

“ _How often do you think you might look up at the stars and wonder what might have been, had you just put your faith in Rick?_ ”.

Morty trusted Rick, or at least most of the time.

It was no news that grandfather invented bullshits in any situation, even just to make fun of him. Easy to speak for Birdperson, surely he was not treated like an idiot, as Rick did with him...

He sighed, scrawling absently on the book with a pen, his leg swinging nervously under the chair. He could try to ask Rick all the questions he had in his mind, maybe if he insisted in the end Rick would say something to him, even though he knew that the scientist was a strongbox as far as his past was concerned. It was easier for the scientist to get pissed than to respond.

Yet he was curious.

Much.

He closed the book snorting, unable to continue studying. He wanted to know, it was his right. He pushed backwards with the chair, rubbing it on the floor, and got up to go downstairs to finally talk to Rick. He crossed the kitchen and stopped at the door that overlooked the garage, spying inside looking for the scientist: he was bent over the workbench, who worked who knows what.

With his heart pounding with anxiety, Morty entered the garage, nibbling his nails. Rick snorted loudly, but continued to devote himself to his invention.

« Stop biting your nails, that noise bothers me ».

Morty winced at those words, immediately lowering his hand and approaching the man.

« Get to the point, Morty. What do you want? Don't ask me for more bullshit to conquer that girl, I don't want to change reality again for your crazy hormones ».

Morty refrained from replying to him, ignoring the temptation to send him to shit and go back to his room.

« N-no, Rick. I w-wanted to ask you s-something, you know... when I left with the portalgun, d-during the music show… », he stopped, unable to continue. He still hadn't told him that he had been saved by his friend Birdperson and that he had been at his house, where he had seen those photographs that had filled his head with questions. Without realizing it, he put his hand to his mouth again to bite his nails, quickly thinking about how to proceed with the speech without too many details.

« Go on, Morty. I'm really curious to know what you did when you screwed my portalgun and left », the scientist's tone was strange and he continued to turn his back on the boy, who had an unpleasant sensation. Rick knew it.

He had been naive to think that Birdperson hadn't told him everything, one way or another, and he understood that Rick was waiting for the moment when he would confess it. As a moron he had trapped himself.

« I d-don't know how t-to use the p-portalgun well and I w-wandered randomly for the dimensions... uh... in the end I e-ended up on Birdworld and w-was helped by your friend Birdperson », he stopped again, moving his fingers from his lips to his hair, nervously fiddling with a lock behind his neck.

Rick continued to tinker about his invention, listening in silence. This confirmed Morty that he was not telling him anything new, so he took a deep breath and decided to get to the heart of the matter without going around too much.

« There w-were photos of you at Birdperson's house, I w-wanted to know- ».

« What picture are you talking about? », finally Rick just turned to look at him, just for a moment, and then went back to his invention again.

« Well... there w-was a photo you had a b-baby in your a.arms with – he saw Rick stiffen in his chair with those words – ah, and o-one in which you p-played in a band », concluded quickly. He wasn't sure why, but Rick's reaction had frightened him. He must have touched a bare nerve and this made him even more anxious about the questions he had. He swallowed, while the scientist put down the tools in his hand and turned definitively towards Morty, turning with the whole chair.

The boy could not look him in the face, keeping his face down and looking at the garage floor.

« I understand what you want to know, that gay of Birdperson has a mania to keep everything, maybe he still has something… ».

Morty couldn't believe his ears. He raised his head to look at Rick, who breached the portal with the portalgun right in front of him, disappearing inside and leaving Morty dazed like a fool in the garage.

He couldn't believe it, for once Rick wanted to talk to him about his past. He began to sweat with both anxiety and emotion. Would he really answer all his questions? He didn't care, whatever he had told him would have gone well.

After a few seconds a new portal opened and the scientist came out with a box quite worn in his hands, moved the invention he was working on earlier and placed the box in its place, opening it.

Morty approached to get a better look, while the man began to hunt out various objects: there were photos of various concerts, a black T-shirt with a red writing "The Flesh Curtains", a still sealed package of strings for the electric bass, sheets with scores and texts all scribbled and full of corrections, piercings, a bra with a telephone number written on it, a broken drumstick, an indefinite quantity of plectrums of various colors and on the bottom still sheets on sheets…

Morty was fascinated and disappointed at the same time. It wasn't what he wanted to know, what he cared about was knowing who that child was, but that was also the first time that Rick had finally intended to tell him something about what he had experienced after abandoning Beth and her mother. He doubted it was a way to avoid further questions.

« Wow, R-Rick... you n-never told me you p-played in a band », Morty murmured and spelled the name on the T-shirt in a low voice, intrigued.

« What d-does it mean? ».

Rick snorted amused, as he continued to look for memories in the box with a nostalgic air.

« What do you think it means? ».

Morty looked at him questioningly, then he understood the pun and blushed suddenly. It was to be expected.

The scientist grabbed the music sheets and looked at them curiously, reading the musical notes and humming it with his mouth closed. Morty watched him fascinated, he didn't care about that picture with the child anymore, he understood that the scientist had no intention of addressing the topic and insisting would only lead to the end of that particular moment, almost rare between the two. A _normal_ grandfather-grandson moment.

He wanted to know more about that band, so he began to comb through the box too, looking at the photographs of the concerts. Rick was really _attractive_. It was almost strange for Morty to see him without his usual lab coat or his usual clothes, but with super tight black leather pants, a very wide blue tank top and a black vest. He played bass and sang and seemed energetic, carefree. Morty couldn't take his eyes off him. He knews that Rick played and was well versed in music – was there something the scientist could not do? – but he didn't expect such a thing and it gave him a strange feeling in the mouth of his stomach to look at the close-knit scientist with his two friends, Birdperson and Squanchy.

« It w-would have been nice to see you p-play », he murmured absently, looking back into the box and pulling a T-shirt out. He put it on his chest to see if it was his size, but unfortunately it was too big for him.

« Put it on », Rick said.

Morty looked up and met his grandfather's. The scientist stared at him with her head slightly tilted to the side and a strange light in her eyes, as if her mind was traveling far.

« It's too big for me, Rick ».

« It doesn't matter, put it on ».

Morty shrugged and slipped the band's black T-shirt over his yellow's. It was decidedly wide and long. Although the sleeves were short, they still reached his forearms. Now that he was wearing it, the boy felt that there was a faint smell on the fabric, it looked like smoke and something that he could not define, but did not give it importance at the moment.

« Seen? It-it is huge to me ».

But Rick was no longer looking at him. He had headed quickly for the shelf at the back of the garage, grabbing the "time travel stuff" box and starting to dig inside, occasionally glancing fleetingly at his nephew. Morty couldn't have known, but the scientist was doing his best to hold back a grin. He took a crystal of the time out of the box – Morty shivered to see it, remembering the disastrous consequences of the last time they had used it – and ran back to the workbench, took the portalgun from his pocket and started working on it quickly.

« R-Rick? ».

« Do you want to see me play at a concert? », Rick turned back to Morty, pointing the portalgun at his feet, whose fluid for interdimensional travel inside the glass cylinder had a different color, fluorescent pink.

Morty instinctively took a step back.

« What? ».

« Have fun, Morty ».

Rick fired the gap right under the boy, who fell inside. The portal was also of a different color, no longer acid green, but pink like the crystal of the time.

Rick watched the gap close and went back to the work counter, looking at the bottom of the box with the band's memories with a satisfied grin.

Morty landed with his ass on the ground, confused and pissed at his grandfather. He opened his eyes that he had closed on impact, looking around. He was in the midst of a large crowd and a tympan-breaking music stunned and annoyed him. He got up rubbing his aching butt and stretched out on his toes to see where he was, but the mass of people – humanoid aliens with very distant eyes and fuchsia skin – was too thick and he was too low to see beyond all those people.

He was sure of two things: that he was no longer on Earth and that this was a fucking outdoor concert at night. Was it possible that Rick had actually shipped it to the past?

He was a little afraid, there alone. How would he go back? He felt panic mounting and being crushed among all those people and with that _terrible_ music it didn't help him to feel better. He started breathing heavily, elbowing and trying to get out of that hell before he totally panicked and could no longer think clearly.

He elbowed until he managed to reach a less crowded area, so as to regain air and turn towards the stage. Seeing it from so far was impossible, but from the maxi side screens he could see who was playing: there was no Rick on stage, nor Birdperson or Squanchy. It was six total unknown.

Morty nearly felt faint, if it wasn't for an alien girl sitting on her partner's shoulders, a stone's throw from him. He was waving as high as he could a sign with an alien writing, but below he could clearly read " _The Flesh Curtains_ " in the same red font as his shirt. He let out a sigh of relief.

Well, Rick hadn't sent him to a remote place, in a past where he's not even planning to be born, and especially that terrifying music wasn't from his grandfather's band. Those on stage really sucked. Maybe they were just the opening band of the concert.

He didn't know what to do, so he moved away a little further. It wasn't one of those full stadium concerts he used to go to, but the audience was still big.

He sat on the ground with his shoulders against a fence, with his knees to his chest and his face sunk in his hands, disheartened, until after a last long and out of tune note the group stopped playing and got off the stage. The lights went out and an excited shouting, whistles and some sporadic applause rose from the audience.

Morty looked up at the maxi screens that are still off, with his heart beating madly and that waiting seemed surreal, absurd.

The lights came on suddenly and the audience began to scream, arm and whistle. Morty didn't even realize he got up to watch better.

Here they are.

Real estate in their places, enjoying the tension before starting. The first floor of each of them passed on the screens, one at a time: Squanchy was sitting at the bottom of the stage on drums, on the bass drum we read _The Flesh Curtains_ red on black. Birdperson was in the center, his hands clasped at the microphone stand, his wings tightly closed along his body and his head bowed.

And Rick.

Morty missed a beat.

He too had his head lowered and the hair of that particular blue covered his face, of which only a faint smile could be seen, but which made Morty come with soft legs. He squeezed his hand on the bass keyboard, which had a left-handed grip. Morty found it odd because Rick wasn't left-handed, but he got distracted by that thought when a long, deep bass note left, which vibrated in his chest.

Birdperson yelled something into the microphone in a language that Morty didn't know, but that enhanced the audience even more.

Another long note from the bass, Squanchy gave time with the sticks and finally the real concert began.

They were extraordinary.

Morty climbed the fence to see better and from that distance he could barely see the stage, but it was still exciting. They were tremendously close-knit, Birdperson sang in a particular way, he had a deep voice that however reached goosebumps high. Squanchy did not seem to know what fatigue was: each solo was incredible, he played with absurd speed, spinning the sticks and playing with the double pedal on the bass drum. Rick dominated the stage, often swapped places with the other two, singing a song with his scratchy and gritty voice or playing the drums. He jumped, climbed on the amplifiers, encouraged the audience to participate and applaud.

Morty was really happy to have been able to see that concert and all the while he almost forgot he had the huge problem of going back, until after an hour and more than a dozen songs, the concert ended. He remained dazed staring at the now dark and deserted stage, while the aliens were moving away, some still humming a few songs, some completely drunk, some chatting. Fear returned to grip his stomach.

And now?

He could not stay there. Could it be that Rick hadn't thought of a way to get him back to the present? Or simply the problem hadn't arisen. That old drunken megalomaniac, in order not to face a fucking argument with him, had sent him back in time how much, thirty years? He made a quick calculation and felt anger rise. Did Rick abandon his daughter to do concerts for the galaxy?

As he thought and pissed off even more towards his grandfather - both the present and the past versions - he started walking automatically, following the crowd as he left.

Walking and ranting in his mind against Rick, he found himself on a semi deserted and dimly lit sidewalk. Anger was replaced by a new panic and trembling curled up on himself, sitting on the ground and tucking his head between his knees. Why didn't Rick ever explain anything to him? He could at least tell him what to do, if to turn to someone, a fucking place to stay ...

A noise of tires on the asphalt and loud music caught his attention and he looked up when he realized that a black van had pulled up right in front of him. Well, now his organs would be kidnapped and sold on the intergalactic black market.

The window with the tinted windows, the one in the driver's seat, lowered and a red-haired cat's head appeared.

« Hey, lil' _squanch_ , what are you doing on the ground? », Morty was gaping, unable to respond. He was on the verge of a hysterical crisis and his lower lip was trembling.

The van's tailgate opened and Morty also recognized Birdperson, evidently tipsy and surrounded by three chuckling fans. One of them laughed rudely, starting to throw pieces of what appeared to be a half-eaten sandwich to Morty. Morty took shelter with his arms, while the group began to laugh at him, continuing to throw various rubbish. Squanchy was laughing so hard that he was seized with a coughing fit and started banging his fist on the steering, honking his horn with each cough, while Birdperson chuckled nervously, but did nothing to stop that situation. Morty was helpless in his place, trying with all his might to hold back the tears, so he hid his face between his knees, angry and humiliated.

« Why are you laughing so much? ».

Rick's voice was unmistakable.

There was a moment of silence. It was evident that the whole group hung from his lips and waited for his approval to continue raging Morty, or his disapproval to stop immediately. Morty barely looked up and met Rick's.

He was out of breath.

Those gray eyes looked like ice and were proud, confident, magnetic. Inside, Morty felt a mix of mixed emotions. The anger and fear of before mixed with a strange sensation in the stomach that he could not decipher.

« Come on, Rick, we were just having fun », panted Squanchy, who seemed to have recovered from a convulsive cough and found his breath to speak.

« Do you want to have fun? », the bassist took a bottle of beer from the floor of the van and waved it, ready to uncork it. Morty immediately understood what his intentions were and stepped back on the ground, ready to get up and run away, but Rick lowered the bottle, focusing his eyes on the shirt that the boy was wearing, suddenly interested.

« _Oye chico, ven aquí, no te ha_ _ré_ _nada_ ».

Morty froze on the spot. If he hadn't known Rick's voice so viscerally, he would never have believed that it was he who had spoken in that low, mellow tone. What kind of manipulative bastard.

« Nice shirt », Rick gave him a tempting smile, leaning with one shoulder against the inside of the van door, with his arms folded. Morty stood up without answering, still suspicious. The Rick he knew was an asshole, selfish and never missed an opportunity to take it by the ass, but he had the impression that this Rick was even worse. He saw in his eyes the security of being a God, the total certainty of being able to do anything if only he had snapped his fingers. It was the Rick he knew, but without a terrible past behind him, without the boredom of a universe that now knew how to be obedient to him. A Rick free of himself, exalted by his own abilities.

A free Rick... this thought made him angry again.

The bassist made a broad gesture towards the rest of the band and fans, with a fake mortified air.

« Excuse them, sometimes they act like kids. Why do not you join us? We are going to have fun », he took a lighter out of his pocket with which he uncorked the beer in his hand, the foam came out and Rick immediately brought his lips to the bottle, sucking the foam as if nothing had happened, in an unequivocally erotic gesture and looking Morty straight in the eyes. The three girls giggled silly as Morty looked at him with his mouth open, feeling like a jolt in the stomach, totally enraptured by every gesture of the bass player. With his eyes he followed a drop of beer which slid down his neck, onto his bare chest, until he disappeared under the man's blue tank top. He lingered a little too long with his gaze on the right nipple piercing and swallowed, starting to feel warm. He could not go, he could not or was afraid of going to devour him with the eyes like those girls.

« No tha-thanks, I should g-go- ».

« _Sùbete_ », Rick's voice was deep, in a tone that didn't allow replies.

Morty didn't know what that single word meant, but it was clearly an order.

The bassist turned to go back to sit in the van, followed immediately by all the others, including giggling fans. Morty looked around, nervously biting his nails. He had two options: to stay there on the sidewalk despairing about how to get home or follow Rick.

Birdperson was about to close the van when Morty reached out to him.

« W-wait! », he ran to the van, climbing up. Birdperson gently reached out to help him and as soon as the boy was inside, he slammed the door shut. There was a smell of smoke and alcohol and loud music. Morty risked falling when Squanchy left with a tire, but as soon as he regained his balance he remained open-mouthed: if from the outside it looked like a very normal anonymous van, inside it had been well equipped with three U-shaped benches, two on the sides and one on the bottom, a mini fridge and colored lights hanging from the ceiling. The drums and bass were packed and stacked behind the front seats. Birdperson alone occupied an entire bench because he kept his wings open, wrapping one of the girls who rubbed against him and stroked his feathers. The other two girls sat in front of the two of them, looking at Rick, who was sitting alone in the back of the van, with one of his legs stretched on the bench, while rolling a joint. The moment he licked the paper to close it he looked at Morty, who winced embarrassed.

« What are you doing standing there? ».

In response, Morty looked around, but even if he wanted to sit, all the seats were occupied and the two fans did not seem at all willing to give him some space. Rick spread his legs, gesturing for him to sit there. The boy was about to refuse, but a shaking caused by Squanchy's reckless driving immediately made him change his mind. He felt the murderous gaze of the two girls on him as he tried to sit on the edge of the bench, but Rick laughed, snapping his tongue in denial.

« _No chico._ _Te d_ _ije aquí_ », the bassist clapped a hand between his legs and Morty sat down, feeling his hot face with embarrassment. Rick lit the joilt and after a shot offered it to the boy, who shook his head with an awkward smile. The girls did not take their eyes off him, envying him deeply. One of the two shrugged and stood up to join her friend who was now clinging to Birdperson, who had all the feathers swollen with excitement.

« Stop being a good boy, take it », Rick handed him the joint again with one of his breathtaking smiles.

« N-no thanks, I d-don't smoke », Morty didn't even finish the sentence, that the alien girl chirped something in her language and Rick frowned only for a moment, then smiling and answering her in the same language, passing her the joint. He paid no more attention to her, but rather returned to devote himself to Morty, who was increasingly uncomfortable.

« How did you end up here? We are very far from Earth, boy. You went a long way just for our concert… », Morty felt freezing and to take time he grabbed the joint that the alien was giving back to Rick, earning a new bad glace from her.

« You-you know what? M-maybe I just take one shot », Morty took a puff, but as soon as he tried to inhale it he choked, starting to cough and tear. The girl laughed rudely, maliciously, but Rick didn't laugh. Despite he continuing to have a bewitching expression, Morty knew his grandfather so well that he understood he was suspicious. He passed the joint again, his face red and his eyes full of tears both from coughing and from shame.

« I c-came with a party, but I think th-they left m-me here », muttered Morty trying to dominate the music, fighting against the unpleasant sensation in the throat and against his own stutter. He knew he was weak as an excuse and knew that Rick would not belive it, and in fact the bassist did not insist on asking questions, but just gave him a penetrating look.

Morty looked into those eyes for just a moment, but a brake from the van almost made him fall again. Rick grabbed him from behind with his big hands, squeezing him against his chest and whispering in his ear with a low and vibrant voice.

« Be careful, _niño_ ».

Morty turned slightly, letting his cheek touch Rick's lips, feeling the bassist's barely hinted beard prick his skin between his shoulder and neck. He shivered and had to make an enormous effort not to turn around and throw himself on those inviting lips. He turned abruptly, murmuring "sorry".

Rick chuckled in a low voice before leaving Morty and standing up, nudging Birdperson with a playful elbow, who was still clinging to the two alien girls. Birdperson closed his wings around them, looking for some privacy, winking at Rick before dedicating himself totally to the two fans. The situation between the three of them was definitely getting hot and Morty looked away, following Rick who had opened the hatch and jumped down, but before Morty managed to get off in turn, the other alien grabbed his arm with her small hand with bright pink skin. She looked at him with contempt, murmuring a phrase that Morty did not understand, but which he interpreted as a threat, also because the girl squeezed his arm tightly and then passed him and got off before him.

Morty was petrified, seeing her hold on to Rick's arm with an annoying chuckle, while he gave her one of his sensual smiles.

He saw them both head for the club, followed by Squanchy, and Morty reluctantly followed them with his head bowed, just because staying in that van watching Birdperson's sexual performance was the least of his wishes. He did not even bother to close the door, those three were so taken that they would not even have noticed.

The venue was not very large, but very full, the music was even louder than in the van. Morty was sitting alone at a table with a glass of water, ice and lemon, and now he just wanted to go home to get pissed at Rick for sending him one way in that embarrassing situation, for what purpose? Surely, as an egocentric bastard, just for the sake of showing him how intriguing, tempting… sexy he was? He couldn't help but glance at the bass player, at the bar counter chatting with that fluttering goose of the alien. Morty shook his head. He couldn't let go of certain thoughts. Even though _that_ Rick still didn't know, he was still his grandson. And he had to stop making certain fantasies, despite the fact that they were difficult to control.

He sighed, resigned. What if the solution had been exactly in front of his eyes? Rick would never have messed with him in the past if he wasn't sure nothing would have happened to him, would he?

He thought about it only for a moment, immediately discarding that idea. No, Rick didn't care about that. Yet that flea had crept into his ear, that _perhaps_ the easiest thing to do was to ask Rick himself directly. Although younger, vain and indisputably more arrogant, he was still the most intelligent man in the universe.

He got up from his seat, heading towards the bar counter, behind the bass player and well hidden from the sight of the alien in front of him. He called him several times, but the music was too loud and he was too shy to scream, so he barely touched Rick's shoulder to attract his attention.

Although the contact had been almost nonexistent, the man just turned in his direction, almost as if he expected it. He did not seem troubled by having been interrupted, but he had a strange light in his eyes, as if he was studying the boy.

« Um ... R-Rick, I-I wanted to ask you something… », he had a strange feeling of déjà vu to those words. Rick arched his monocle without losing his half smile.

« _¿Cómo me llamaste?_ – he turned completely towards the boy, lowering himself just to be at his height – Who gave you permission to call me by name, boy? », he slapped him on the forehead and Morty stepped back, shocked by those words, rubbing the painful spot.

« Try again and maybe I'll be willing to listen to you ».

Morty looked at him astonished, so confused and embarrassed that his head was spinning.

« S-Sanchez… ? », he tried and a penetrating and satisfied look from Rick made him lose the thread of the speech, totally forgetting what he should ask him. He felt strange to call him that way, he was stunned, unable to continue.

« Were you saying? », Rick lit a cigarette, raising his head and puffing the smoke upward. It was incredible how every gesture, every movement, was charged with eroticism. The way he held the cigarette between his fingers was also, or the way he moved his hair from his face or how he rested his lips on the beer bottle.

Morty wanted to drink from that same bottle just to know what those lips tasted like. He shook himself, ashamed of those thoughts.

_Don't ask it, he's your grandfather._

« So what did you want to ask me? ».

_Don’t do it._

« Can I- », He pointed to the beer he was holding and Rick shook his head slightly and chuckled, giving him another magnetic glance.

« You have to say it well ».

Morty blazed, but looked him straight in the eye defiantly before replying.

« S-Sanchez, c-can I take a sip fr-from your beer? ».

It had already happened that Rick made him feel embarrassed, humiliated and submissive, but at that moment Morty found those sensations so exciting that the member throbbed between his legs, starting to harden.

The bassist handed him the bottle but, before Morty drank, he took his chin between his fingers, barely holding it up.

« _Ahora, te enseñaré algo nuevo…_ », he took a puff from his cigarette and brought his face close to that of the boy, touching his mouth with hers. Morty opened it instinctively and Rick blew the smoke slowly between the lips of the boy, whose legs trembled, between which his ready and moist erection throbbed.

Morty was about to put a hand on Rick's bare chest, but at the same instant that there was contact between their lips, a high-pitched cry overpowered the music, making the bassist turn alarmed.

Squanchy was shouting at the bartender in a mix between the local alien language and his particular language, so hight that he could barely keep his head up. He dangled left and right, hovering between the stool and the counter, and shouted what seemed to be a very offensive swearword – judging by the expression of those present and the bartender – before collapsing, falling to the floor asleep.

Morty hated him, but at the same time thanked him. He was about to kiss Rick.

Could it be that he didn't have a modicum of willpower? The taste of smoke in his mouth and the feeling of frustration for having interrupted that moment made him understand that he had no self-control in the least.

Rick laughed loudly, looking at Squanchy asleep on the floor in an absurd and uncomfortable position, and only then did Morty notice that he also had a piercing on his tongue, a simple shiny black ball. Once again he wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

_I have to give myself a fucking calm down._

Rick finally stopped laughing, returning to look at the boy with a rather eloquent expression. Morty saw him pull out from his pocket what he immediately recognized as the portalgun, a model somewhat obsolete compared to how he knew it, but he could not be wrong.

« How about if we go to my place? », Rick shot an gap in front of him. Morty had seen that gesture done millions of times, but the way the bassist did it was strange, different: there was a hint of presumptuous satisfaction in showing what was his greatest invention.

And Morty didn't have to and couldn't know its existence.

He pretended immediately to be amazed, looking at the portal as if it were the first time. Rick didn't miss his reaction.

« I… uh… I c-can't… », he could not finish the sentence, because the alien Rick was talking to earlier had returned to the attack, approaching Rick again, who put his arm around her waist and looked at the boy questioningly, almost expecting him to react.

« En-enjoy yourselves », concluded acid. Rick glanced at him curiously, but then he shrugged, tightening his arm around the girl's hips and entering the passage. The alien turned one last time to Morty with a victorious smile and he fought against the temptation to kick her, just showing her the middle finger.

It was said that it was better that way, that it would have been a huge mistake to follow Rick, who would have succumbed to his temptations, that if he had crossed that portal, he would never have gone back ...

He twisted his stomach, trying not to admit to himself that he was jealous.

He walked out of the club, passing close to Squanchy's defenseless body, still all curled up on itself like a peeled rag cat. He rolled his eyes, grabbing him from under his arms – he was much heavier than he seemed – and dragging him with difficulty towards the van.

Sweaty and pissed, he climbed into the van, pushing Squanchy on the passenger side and sitting on the driver's side. He curled up on himself trying to sleep, but it was impossible to fall asleep with Birdperson's moans and screams and the two aliens inside the back of the van.

He could not say if he hated himself or Rick at the time anymore, because he couldn't stop imagining what could have happened if he had gone with Rick - who incidentally preferred him to that bitch, he was sure of it - and because his erection was harder than ever to that thought. He cast a fleeting glance at Squanchy, slumped in the seat next to him, and caressed himself just letting go of the fantasies, holding back the moans.

« Fuck you, Rick ».


	2. That Rick

Morty was awakened by indefinite voices and noises.

Initially he believed he was dreaming, finding himself in a world that was not his own, with a sky of a different color from what he was used to, crouched on the seat of a van and with a reddish ray of sun that colored his face.

It took him a few moments to remember everything and realize where he was.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on those voices that were clearly arguing and immediately recognized that of Rick and then that of the other two members of the band.

He sat up straight to hear better and saw that the three were in the back of the van, so he leaned slightly between the two front seats to look at them. Rick was sitting in the same place as the day before, at the back of the van, with his carelessness while tuning the bass. Birdperson was standing in front of him and pacing back and forth, his wings quivering and his feathers all ruffled with nervousness. Squanchy was sitting on one of the side bench, his hind legs and tail dangling and his head now looking at Rick now Birdperson, as if the discussion didn't concern him.

« What were you waiting to tell us? », although it was evident that Birdperson was furious, he spoke in his usual calm tone, but there was something in his voice, perhaps disappointment. Morty couldn't be sure because he couldn't see it in the face.

Rick did not look at him, he kept turning the keys to tighten the bass strings, strumming with his fingers with black polish to make sure of the tuning. He took a few seconds before replying, in the same calm tone, but which betrayed a certain impatience.

« Freedom is more important than a stupid concert, Pers, when will you open your eyes and realize it? They want to use us as pawns, do you want to be their dog trained to fight? Is that what you want? ».

« I want to be as free as you, Rick, but… ».

Rick finally looked up, with a defiant smile.

« So fight with me, lead the resistance together, kick those bastards' asses, get rid of their jurisdiction planet after planet ».

« Is this what I can choose from? Whether to be _their_ trained dog or _yours_? – Birdperson stepped back, closing his wings along the body. This time Morty was sure that in his tone there was disappointment – I no longer want to kill, Rick ».

The bassist started to stand up and reply, but Squanchy intervened in the discussion.

« I’ll follow Rick, we can’t just sit around and watch the _squanch_ they’re up to. With those informants we met we can _squanch_ them from the inside, in a few months we will have all the information we need to begin to- ».

« No, no! I don’t want no more blood on my hands! I do not want to lose my friends in battle, there must be another solution without committing a massacre! ».

« Only a wimp like you could think of such a thing – Rick put the bass on the bench and got up, face to face with Birdperson – freedom has a price and I don’t give a shit how high it is », he growled his last words with an anger that made Morty shudder deep down. He hid more on the seat, terrified. He’d seen Rick angry many times, but that was different. He had the expression of those who have nothing to lose, the passion of a project that you want to achieve at any cost. For the first time in his life he had an intense and deep terror of Rick, as if he did not recognize him. Morty saw Birdperson’s shoulders stand up as if he was catching his breath to respond, but then he said nothing, giving Rick the chance to press him.

« Can you just fucking trust me for once? I know what I say and I know what I- ».

« Trust in you? You just said we’re expendable! You don’t care if they kill us, as long as you reach your goal! You… », it seemed again that Birdperson held back with great effort to say something and this time did not escape Rick, who crossed his arms and tilted his head, challenging him.

« I what? Say it, you've been thinking about it for days, I don't think I haven't noticed ».

« Never mind, Rick », Birdperson closed his wings and grabbed the van door handle to get out and leave. Rick smiled mean, evidently dissatisfied by the surrender of the comrade and still determined to fight.

« So go back to being a chick in your parents' nest ».

At those words Squanchy held his breath, upset, and Birdperson froze on the spot, swelling the feathers of anger. He didn’t look back at the bassist, who didn’t seem to regret what he had just said.

« At least I didn’t start a family and then run away like a coward ».

Morty squeaked with fear and immediately closed his mouth with his hand. Between the two fell a silence so heavy that Morty even had the fear of breathing and suddenly was taken by the irrepressible impulse to plug his ears and close his eyes, did not want to know the answer, did not want to know the truth, but he couldn’t stop watching that scene.

Squanchy looked at them with his mouth wide open, completely shocked, staring first at one and then at the other with his hair standing up behind his back.

Rick seemed to have been frozen. Her expression full of anger only cracked for a moment, only to return to being cold and detached. He stared at the back of Birdperson’s head without saying a word, as if he was restraining his reaction to calculate the words well before answering.

« You don’t know a shit about me », he said finally and threw himself on his companion, pressing him against the hatch of the van: with his forearm he pressed his face against the frame, with his other hand he squeezed the feathers at the center of the wings. Birdperson made a painful moan, but did not try to wriggle.

« You... you have no idea », Rick growled, crushing him harder against the interior of the van and plucking some feathers from it.

« I don’t have it, Rick? Are you sure? You told me everything, don’t you remember? No, because you were drunk rotten », At those words the bassist grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head against the frame with force. Morty escaped another moan of fear and immediately put his hands to his mouth. Birdperson began to bleed from his temple and before Rick made his head beat again, he reacted by turning, blocking his partner's wrists. Rick headbutted him and they stayed that way, face to face.

« Maybe because I trusted you, Birdperson ».

They pushed hard, but neither seemed to prevail over the other.

« Don’t play this fucking game with me, Rick ».

Squanchy tried to divide them, but as soon as he tried to open his mouth, Birdperson opened his wings to chase him away.

« Don’t get in the way! When will you stop kissing his ass and really see him for what he is? ».

Rick took advantage of that moment of distraction to fight back: he intertwined his leg with that of his partner and pulled, making him lose his balance and landing him. He was immediately on top of him, with one hand blocking his wrist and with the other he was ready to punch him. Birdperson did not resist, but spoke by infusing all the anger inside him into his own words.

« You want me to trust you, but to know more about you, I have to wait for you to get high! ».

Rick was sits astride him with his fist still loaded and Squanchy tried to block his arm. The bass player shook his cat off and his face was back with his mean smile. Morty didn’t know what to think and followed the scene with wide eyes. He had always been convinced that at least with those he considered friends, Rick behaved differently, but before his eyes had a scene that was not at all new. He believed that at least with the two was different, instead Morty saw himself in that younger Birdperson, who was faced with a Rick as a God, powerful, dangerous and fearsome, who took his trust without giving him anything in return. And he knew that Birdperson could not help but trust Rick. Because it was like that for him too.

« Is this the problem, Pers? – Rick leaned over him until he touched his lips – Do you want to know me _more deeply_? », he moved his pelvis on Birdperson as in an intercourse, rubbing himself on his companion who was breathing heavily, motionless and with swollen feathers and a slight blush on his face. Rick bit his lower lip and Birdperson let out a shaky sigh. He seemed to be trying very hard not to give satisfaction to the bass player. Rick touched his mouth, barely tilting his head to the side as if he were about to kiss him. He stayed like that for a few seconds, whispered something that Morty could not hear, but that made his companion blush, which swallowed and relaxed the body, surrendering and looking away.

« You’re so gay », Rick chuckled against his lips, then got up and left him there, firm and helpless. Squanchy blew and sent them both to that country in his language, returning to sit on the bench, still with his hair standing up behind his back. Rick pulled a small, cylindrical object out of his pocket and threw it at Birdperson, who grabbed it on the fly, propping himself up on his elbows.

They acted as if nothing had happened. Morty found it odd, but didn't have time to dwell on it.

« You like to watch, huh? Little pervert ».

His blood ran cold when he realized that Rick was talking to him. Like a fool he curled up on the seat of the van. How long did him know he was watching them?

What was he supposed to do? Pretend to sleep? Running away as far as possible, starting an outcast life on an unknown planet and in the past? Pretend to be dead?

It seemed like the safest option.

« Come out, _chico_ , someone here has something to tell you », Rick's tone was amused and the last words were dominated by another Squanchy puff.

Morty felt his heart in his throat with fear and risked going hyperventilated, but he decided to get up anyway, because staying there where he was was now useless.

Rick had returned to sit on the bench at the far end, right in front of Morty, with open legs and with the bass in his arms, stroking the ropes with skill. Squanchy sharpened his nails against the leather bench, totally disinterested, and Birdperson used the cylindrical device as a spray on his temple, dabbing the blood of the wound and giving rancorous looks to Rick, sitting as far away from him as possible.

The bassist kicked the bench on which there was the red cat, who clung with all four legs to maintain balance and then showed Rick a clawed middle finger.

« Don't be rude, Squanchy, the bartender told me that it was the boy who brought you here, instead of getting you trampled there on the ground... come on, thank him », he glanced eloquently at the red cat, pointing to the boy.

« Don't break my _squanch_ », he blew again, jumping off the bench and jumping on the door handle to open it. Birdperson helped him and they both left the van, slamming the door.

Rick shrugged, playing again as if nothing had happened.

Morty felt frightened and also terribly uncomfortable. He did not imagine that he would be alone with him. Rick gestured to him with his head to sit on the bench next to him, without stopping to play.

« _Desearía saber que te pasa por la cabeza_ », he singed low, looking up to look at Morty still standing. The boy passed the weight from one foot to the other, embarrassed and still shaken.

« Why do you always have to make me repeat things twice? Sit down, _por favor_ ».

Morty obeyed, wrinkling his t-shirt with nervousness and keeping his face low, peering occasionally at Rick's fingers that pinched the strings slowly and for a few seconds between the two there was only that low metallic sound and the equally low voice of Rick who singed with his mouth closed. To Morty that melody sounded vaguely familiar. Rick was very relaxed, as if everything that had happened between him and Birdperson really had been a silliness.

The boy watched the bassist's fingers slide over the keys and again it seemed strange that Rick played like a left handed.

« R-Rick, you’re… er, S-Sanchez – he corrected himself immediately, because Rick had raised the one-brow hearing himself called by name – a-are you left-handed? ».

The bassist smiled and Morty's guts twisted. It was scary, but bloody beautiful.

« It get attention, right? ».

He hadn't understood what the man meant, but that answer had turned on a light bulb. He could have all the answers he wanted from Rick, all the questions that the scientist brought with him, those questions that Morty asked him and that in response had either a burp or slamming them both into an almost deadly adventure.

He had to play it well, he could do it... maybe asking for simple things that didn't suspect him too much. And maybe even doing the pimp.

« You're g-good », he tried shyly and Rick continued to play with his face down on the instrument. His hair covered his eyes and you could only see his satisfied smile that took your breath away.

He was handsome and good, and Rick knew he was.

Morty slid onto the bench to get a little closer.

« Do you want to try? », Rick moved the bass and clapped his hand on the bench between his legs, exactly as he had done the day before. This time Morty didn't have him repeated twice, got up and sat down in front of Rick, who immediately rested his chest on boy's back. Morty blushed, but she would have resisted to get to her goal.

_What a bitch I am._

Rick took the bass again and placed it in the boy's lap. He took a small hand with his huge one and guided it to the handle and the keys of the instrument. Rick whispered the notes in his ear, accompanying his fingers to make the strings vibrate.

Morty felt himself vibrating too and staying focused was getting harder and harder. He had to be very careful with the questions he asked, but not a single one came to him at the time.

« It’s d-difficult to p-play with the left », he murmured embarrassed, and Rick's laughter tickled his ear.

« I can do many things with my left hand », his voice was little more than a whisper and the bassist released his grip on the younger man's hands to slowly slide his arms down to his shoulders. Goosebumps came to Morty and the member jumped in his pants.

He could not miss that opportunity, he had to stay focused and find something to ask him.

« What was that sp-spray that you g-gave to your friend? He im-immediately healed him… », he asked in a low voice.

« A magic trick », he replied, biting his neck and removing the bass from his hands, placing it on the bench next to them. He put his hands on the boy's legs, stroking them and starting to creep under his shirt. Morty escaped a groan, feeling the excitement grow. By now his mind was completely clouded and he did not seem suspicious that Rick had lied to him.

« E-even that green portal was a magic t-trick? ».

« That's my best trick – he bit his ear and took off the black t-shirt of the band and the yellow t-shirt he had under the first one, throwing them on the ground – Now turn around _y càllate_ ».

He raised Morty, making him sit astride him, grabbing him by the hips and pressing the erection between his legs. Morty gasped in pleasure and the member throbbed in his pants when Rick sucked and bit his neck, with such passion that he left an evident hickey.

The boy's head was spinning and he was less and less lucid, but he didn't want to abandon his plan to find out more. As soon as he took a breath to speak, however, Rick silenced him by kissing him, invading his mouth with his tongue and tickling Morty's with the piercing. The boy moaned with pleasure, sinking his hands into the man's hair and felt another piercing at the base of his neck, two little balls under his skin. Morty played with it with his fingertips, intoxicated by that alcohol and smoke kiss.

« You like? So… _mira aquí_ », the man bit his lower lip, barely moving away from him and unbuttoning the leather pants that were now very tight, releasing the huge wet and pulsating erection.

Morty saw that he also had two piercings on his cock, two little balls on the rod and one right in the center of the glans. He grabbed Morty's small hand and led her to squeeze the rod. The member seemed even bigger in the boy's hand.

Rick wrapped Morty's smaller one in his fist, accompanying him in his movements, jerking off. With his other hand he grabbed the boy's neck, bringing him close to him again to kiss him, panting in his mouth.

« Kneel », he ordered and Morty obeyed, totally succubated, as if he were under a powerful drug, getting down from him and kneeling between his legs.

_Perhaps after he comes he will be more willing to speak…_

He stuck his tongue out and shyly licked the rod from the base to the tip, lingering too long on both piercings. Rick put an arm behind his head, panting with pleasure. That was Morty's first blowjob, he had no idea how to do it, but he was letting himself be guided by instinct, stroking the bassist's member with small laps and licking his precum, letting his strong and virile flavor invade him mouth.

As soon as Morty slid the wet glans between her lips, narrowing her eyes in embarrassment, she heard a strange noise, so he looked up curiously.

He was out of breath.

Rick was aiming a gun at his forehead, smiling at him with the same petty smile he had given Birdperson earlier. Morty felt himself die.

« I didn't tell you to stop, continue », Rick put the gun on his forehead to force him to lower his head.

« And while you pledge yourself to enjoy me... I said continue! – Morty immediately started to lick him again, with his lips trembling – _Ah, buen niño_... while you make me enjoy, explain to me who sent you here and what information he is looking for », Morty had eyes full of tears of humiliation and fear. He knew Rick suspected him from the very first moment, but he didn’t think it would come to that.

He had to fucking expect it. It was Rick he was talking about.

It wasn’t one of _his_ Rick’s fucking games. He thought he was a spy, probably, he was naive to think he could ask him questions without getting suspicious.

« I t-told you… – Rick glanced at him and Morty licked his cock again, between sentences – I c-came w-with… AH! ».

Rick had fired a shot at the van's seats, startling the boy. A stink of plastic and burnt fabric filled the van.

« _No sabes con quién estás tratando,_ _niño_ – grabbed Morty by the hair looking at him with malice and a crazy light in his eyes – I want to know who is sending you and why », he thrust his cock down his throat, panting obscenely. Morty choked and tried to walk away, coughing, but Rick stood up, pushing into the smaller boy's mouth, squeezing his hair and pointing the gun at his head. Morty tried to push him away, but the more he tried to free himself, the more the bassist seemed to feel pleasure. For a moment it occurred to him to bite him, but the tip of the plasma pistol on his head immediately made that thought pass.

With a guttural grunt Rick came to orgasm, filling the boy's mouth and throat with warm semen. She looked at him from above with an exalted, dangerous look, pulling out the sperm-stained member.

« Swallow », he ordered, taking the boy's face with one hand, squeezing his cheeks and running his thumb over his lips, collecting the sperm and saliva that ran down his chin.

Morty obeyed crying and Rick put his thumb in his mouth, gesturing to him with his eyes to suck it. The boy obeyed, holding back his sobs.

« Clean up », the bassist pushed his still hard member against his lips and Morty licked that too, until it was perfectly clean.

Rick pushed him away, making him fall sitting on the floor and pulled a small device from his vest pocket which he threw at Morty. The moment the device touched the boy's half-naked body, it opened and very thin ropes emerged, which completely tied the boy, making any movement impossible.

« Since you don’t want to talk with me – Rick buttoned up his pants and put the gun in his pocket – you’ll have fun with Squanchy’s torture. He really is a master in this… », he opened the hatch, exiting and closing Morty inside the van, who was crying terrified, cursing himself and Rick.

He didn't even know what to think of himself. He had always complained about how asshole, careless and megalomaniacal his Rick was, but now he felt lucky, almost _protected_ by the attentions that his grandfather reserved for him.

It pinched his throat both for swallowing the man's semen and for the piercing on the tip of the cock that had scratched his throat. What else was to happen to him again?

_Squanchy's torture..._ how much would they torture him before realizing that he really wasn't a spy? What would they do to him?Morty shivered, feeling her body increasingly sensitive tightened in those thin threads similar to a transparent fishing line.

He just wanted to go home...

He closed his eyes, resigned, but immediately after that thought he felt himself fall.

It was an interdimensional portal.

And it was pink.

Rick had just seen his nephew disappear into the pink interdimensional portal. He took a long sip from the whiskey flask and went to the workbench on which there was the box with all the memories of his old group. Many years had passed and that event had practically forgotten him, until he saw Morty wearing that black t-shirt. It had turned on like a light bulb, a memory had returned to him that had remained hidden in his mind for a long time. He had told his grandson that Birdperson kept that box, but in reality he kept it well hidden in a secret compartment under his bed, in his room. He would never admit that he was the one who cared most for those memories.

He completely emptied the box and under the sheets that formed a kind of double bottom, an old worn and dirty t-shirt came out. A yellow t-shirt.

He sniffed it and could not say whether by suggestion or why it really was so, but he seemed to still vaguely smell Morty's smell. He still remembered the moment he entered the van and found nothing but the boy's clothes. He chuckled thinking about the destruction he had left behind, believing he had been screwed by a kid. Ironic, given that he had actually been screwed, but from the future himself. He felt a shock of excitement. Only Rick Sanchez could fuck Rick Sanchez.

He sat down thoughtfully on the swivel chair. He had to bring to mind exactly all the memories of that evening, or he risked missing the perfect moment.

He unbuttoned his trouser belt, pulling out his hard, throbbing cock and closed his eyes, starting to remember.

He remembered that little boy curled up on the sidewalk, it had seemed so strange that a boy was on a planet so far from Earth, but at the same time he intrigued him in a particular way that he had not been able to explain, but that now he could understand ... yes he stroked the member, sighing softly.

He had brought it with him, intending to interrogate him and fuck him, but he had started to become seriously suspicious of the reaction he had had when he saw the portalgun and the green gap. He could not understand how that young and apparently defenseless boy could actually be a government spy... he bit his lower lip, while the precum flowed along the rod, wetting his hand.

He'd preferred to give him the benefit of the doubt by going home and fucking with a chick, or maybe he was a guy, not even remembering it. He was amazed when he found it in the van the next morning. He talked about it with Birdperson and Squanchy, told them about his suspicions and that he wanted to cancel the upcoming concerts to actually start acting. He knew that Morty was watching them, he had staged a theater with the two companions to see if he was interested in information on a blow to the Federation, but that Birdperson moron was still acting like a kid and was about to ruin everything... those words would not have easily forgive, if he didn't have the biggest problem of figuring out who that boy was. He bit his lower lip again, because he was too excited and the long-dormant memories seemed to want to go out together, as if a dam had overflowed.

He continued to masturbate slowly, savoring every movement, sliding with his thumb on the wet tip, stimulating the most sensitive point, sighing more and more deeply.

Morty had confirmed his suspicions by starting to ask strange questions about the portalgun and it was at that moment that he decided to act, because he had no more doubts.

He remembered his nephew kneeling between his legs like a little slut, who licked his cock with that small and hot tongue and his terrified expression when he had found the gun pointed at his head, while he continued to lick it, looking for an excuse.

The member throbbed in his hands and a generous drop of preseminal liquid went to wet his hand and his pants

It had finally come into his mouth. In that little virgin mouth.

How many times had he fantasized about it? How many times had he masturbated thinking of those lips, that white skin, that small body…

He could no longer hold back his orgasm, coming on the garage floor with a hoarse groan and abandoning himself to the chair, still moving his hand on the member, enjoying the last pulsations.

Yet it was not enough. That orgasm hadn't even remotely satisfied him.

He wiped himself off with Morty's yellow shirt – he hadn't even realized he was holding it in the other hand all the time – and settled down, hiding the shirt on the bottom of the box and putting it away, before taking the portalgun with still the crystal of time inside and adjust the dimension wheel well. It had to be very precise, because after coming in his grandson's mouth he had gone to call the other two, already anticipating to torture that boy and not to stop only for a blowjob, because that was only the appetizer, he would have liked to have fun until the end.

He had a time frame of few minutes for the interdimensional portal to appear in the right place and at the right time.

He emptied his whiskey flask with a sip and shot the pink gap horizontally in front of him, from which Morty fell into tears, bare-chested and tied hands and feet. Rick took on a worried expression and rushed over to his grandson, immediately loosening the thin ropes that had left his marks all over his body.

In spite of the fact that he had just come, he felt a shock to the dick, not yet completely at rest.

He knelt next to the boy, who clung to his lab coat as if he were a lifeline. Rick squeezed him gently, stroking his back slowly.

« Hey, hey... w-what happened? I'm here, you're w-with grandpa now… ».

Morty sobbed and hugged Rick harder, who gave him a kiss on the head with a grin that the little one could not see. He picked him up gently and sat down on the chair with his grandson curled up in his arms and clinging to his lab coat, who trying to tell him what had happened between sobs and stammers. If he hadn't already known the story Morty was telling, it would have been difficult to understand what he was saying, but one thing was clear to Rick: the boy was telling the event referring to him as " _that Rick_ ". As if he were a totally different person and not the same person who held him in his arms at the time. It was difficult for him not to laugh, because he realized that Morty was completely omitting the part where they had kissed, of how he moaned against his lips, of how without batting an eyelid he had let himself be seduced to the point of giving him a blowjob. Little ass-covering bitch.

He couldn't help wondering if the boy had let himself be fucked, if he hadn't stopped by threatening him with the gun. He tried not to think about it, continuing to stroke Morty's bare back, who was slowly beginning to calm down. The scientist stroked his neck and ran his fingertips over the reddish hickey. Another rush of excitement made his member pulse.

He had made Morty his own even before he was even born and that mark imprinted on his white skin was proof of this. And since he saw him wearing the band's shirt he hadn't thought of anything else. Seeing him wear it had been the spark that made him join all the pieces. He had removed the event over time because he had always believed that the boy was only a spy, he had also forgotten his face, because so many over the years had tried to extract information from him that he could never remember them all.

Instead, what he thought was a spy was _his_ Morty. Refraining from fucking him there and immediately required him a superhuman effort.

Caught in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed that Morty had stopped talking for a while and that he was nervously fiddling with the buttons of his lab coat, as if expecting a reproach from Rick, as if it was his fault .

It was as stupid as it was cute.

« R-Rick… », Morty whispered, settling his face in the hollow of his shoulder. He knew his grandson so well that he understood that he was blushing only by feeling the warmth of his face on him.

Rick didn't speak, waiting for the boy to take his time to continue. He didn't have to be in a hurry, he couldn't blow up his plan just because he was impatient. He concentrated on trying not to get excited, but it was really, really difficult.

« Do you… d-do you re-remember it? ».

_That you’d gladly let your thirty years younger grandpa fucked you? Yeah, you little slut._

« No, baby, it's b-been so long t-time… », he lied, giving another kiss on Morty's head, who relaxed in his arms.

Rick was bloody excited. He held the boy's little body in his arms so that he still didn't feel his erection, but Morty was so naive... why not increase the dose?

« Maybe just a little bit… ».

Morty tensed at those words. The scientist looked down and met the boy's: he was all eyes, his face flushed with embarrassment and his lips ... Rick risked losing control. Those lips were still swollen and red, moist and opened, inviting.

« W-what- ».

Rick squeezed him tightly, his mind clouded with excitement and alcohol. He ran his fingers over the hickey again and a strange sensation, very similar to anger, made him forget the whole plan he had devised.

« Let's fi-finish what we st-started thirty years ago, what do you say Mo _beuurp_ rty? », Rick leaned over Morty to kiss him, but the boy stepped aside, placing his hands on his grandfather's chest to push him away.

« N-no, Rick, I d-don’t- ».

Morty tried to reply, but the scientist was stronger than he and blocked his arm. The youngest stirred in his arms, trying to free himself.

Had that lil' shit from Morty had no problem sucking Rick's cock from the past and now he wanted to be a virgin with him? With a movement of unjustified jealousy towards himself, Rick got up with Morty in his arms and placed it on the workbench, wiping away with one arm everything that was on the table, between the sounds of scrap metal and broken glass.

« No? And yet I d-don’t think you had a p-problem with _that Rick_ – Morty tried to kick, but Rick locked both his wrists and settled better between the legs of the guy sitting on the edge of the workbench – _¿Quizás te guste más si hablo así?_ », he pulled the boy towards him, biting his chin. Morty moaned and blushed. Forced to stand with his legs open he could no longer hide his erection as when he was in the arms of his grandfather. Her face was so red that it looked like it was going to burn. Rick passed both of Morty's wrists in one hand and with his free hand he touched his grandson's inseam, grinning satisfied.

« Oh, do you r-really like it if grandpa t-talks to you like that? _Eres una puta_ , Morty ».

Did he want to do the precious with him? He was just throwing gasoline on the fire, behaving like that.

He approached his grandson's mouth he touched it as soon as.

« Let me check s-something... – ran his tongue over the boy's lips, sucking the lower one – _Sí, aún t-tienes mi sabor en tus labios_ », to feel his taste still on the boy's lips made Rick completely lose control, who pounced on his nephew and kissed him as if he hadn't waited for anything else for hours, days, _thirty years_. She let go of his wrists and Morty clung to his lab coat again, finally stopping doing that stupid and false resistance.

He couldn't take it anymore. He could no longer wait.

He unbuttoned Morty's pants, lifting him off the table just enough to lower them and throw them on the ground together with the underwear. Rick smiled seeing his nephew excited and wet and was seized by the urge to want to taste another flavor.

He pushed Morty backwards and the boy propped himself up on his elbows so as not to hit the wall behind him and sobbed in surprise, when he saw Rick lowering towards his erection with a criminal smile. The scientist grabbed him by the buttocks to lift him and spread them with his fingers, sinking his tongue into his flesh, probing his opening, licking and sucking. Morty let his head go back, tightening his thighs around his grandfather's shoulders, unable to hold back the moans of pleasure. He felt Rick's tongue creep into him and reached out to sink it into his grandfather's hair, who blocked his wrist before the boy even managed to touch it. Rick held him off the workbench with one hand, as if the boy had no weight.

« Don’t even try, lil shit », the scientist moved his hand, returning to lick the boy's opening, wetting it well, before replacing the tongue with a finger, entering slowly. He would not have allowed the boy to put a hand on his head, in a gesture that only meant having command over the rhythm. Morty wouldn't have it anyway, but it was the principle.

The command was his and hers alone, even if he was bent to lick him.

He barely moved his finger inside the boy, who arched his back with pleasure, and lowered himself on his erection, licking only the wet tip. Morty gasped without being able to restrain himself.

« You're lucky that I didn't f-fuck you at the time, I wouldn't have b-been so gentle », he licked his erection from the base to the tip before sliding it completely into his mouth once and only once. The boy seemed to have lost all ability to speak and moaned his name without restraint. Rick licked his pre-come, feeling his own cock still throbbing in his pants throbbing.

It was at the limit.

He straightened up just long enough to make Morty sit on the table again and insert a second finger inside him, while with the other hand he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants, finally releasing his erection and releasing the pleasure by touching himself. The boy was getting wet and Rick stopped his hand when he tried to touch himself.

« _¿Quieres venirte?_ No, not until I decide », he inserted a third finger and Morty punched the counter, pushing himself more towards the scientist's hand and the more the boy pushed towards him, the less Rick sank his fingers into Morty, enjoying his expression and his verses of frustration. That red, sweaty little face that was desperately looking for a pleasure that Rick and only Rick could give him, was of an erotic charge that was driving him crazy.

He finally came out of him, grabbing him by the hips and placing the erection between the boy's buttocks, sliding it back and forth a little before pressing it just on his opening, so that it was well wet.

« R-Rick, wait », Morty murmured looking down at Rick's huge member, and reaching out a hand on the man's chest, as if to stop him. The scientist smiled, that cursed smile that rather than reassuring Morty made him frightened even more. He leaned over the boy, touching his ear with the tip of his nose. Morty was both terribly excited and terrified. There was no way that cock could get inside him, it couldn't.

« Don't worry, baby, _s_ _eré delicado_ », he grabbed him by the hips to bring him even closer, in a firm and decisive grip, slowly pushing inside him. Morty raised a hand to his mouth, biting his fist as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Rick entered slowly, trying to hold back himself as much as he could, but the boy was very tight and he was obscenely horny.

Only the tip had entered and Morty already felt _full_ , totally filled by the scientist. It was painful, but as a disgusting masochist he was, he was more excited than ever. The member throbbed hard and red against his belly, bathing him with his own precum. He stopped biting his fist, on which the mark of his teeth was now imprinted, and brought his hand against Rick's chest again,as if to slow down his movements, as if his small and frail arm could stop the power and the desire of the God of the universes.

« R-Rick… ».

« Sshh… shut up Morty », Rick pushed inside the boy in slowly, still with his eyes closed to dominate himself and be as delicate as he could. Hearing his name like that made his member pulse and that pulse made Morty shriek, who clenched his fist grabbing Rick's blue shirt and pulling it. The man lowered himself on his grandson, aiming to his neck, right from the side on which the hickey that he himself had made him stood out. He licked it with the tip of his tongue and then bit the white skin just above it, sucking hard to create a new mark.

Without being able to control himself, penetrated the boy completely, and another strangled cry escaped.

Morty.belonged.to.Rick.

He began to push, detaching himself from the boy's neck just to look for a point without hickeys to mark it again and again, on his shoulders, on his chest, wherever he could reach with his mouth: he wanted that white skin screamed that it was his and his only. He didn't know why, but he felt a sort of annoyance in thinking that his grandson had allowed himself to someone other than him. Yes, he was the one Morty sucked on anyway – the member throbbed again, risking making him come – but it wasn't _him_. That sort of strange sensation didn't make sense, he didn't want to admit to himself that it was a sort of jealousy, absurd but existing and throbbing inside him.

He increased the rhythm of the thrusts, grabbing the boy's hair to make him lift his face and kissing him again, enjoying his sharp screams in his mouth, filling himself with his body and his moans, his "more" and his "stop".

A new wave of anger led him to bite hard on the boy's neck, now almost completely red with hickeys, giving him a dry blow that made him short of breath. Sperm dripped from the boy's member in an unauthorized orgasm.

« The next time I send you alone somewhere – he gave another strong push, and Morty came without even touching himself – don't be a slut », he started to push again, careless of whether his grandson had just come, because after the orgasm he was even tighter and was driving him crazy.

He would have owned Morty like that for days, he would never get tired of it, but another wave of anger led him to get out of him, grasping the boy's hips firmly and forcing him to kneel, pressing his hard red cock against her lips, pressing to enter.

Morty looked at him from below and Rick gave him a sneer exactly as he had done as a bassist of the Flesh Curtains. Mean and tremendously excited.

« _No necesito un arma ahora, ¿verdad?_ », he stroked his hair for a moment, before sliding his hand along his red and sweaty face and putting a thumb between his lips, forcing him to open his mouth. He spread his cheek with his finger and with his other thumb he lowered his jaw, making room for his erection. He pushed it into the boy's throat, causing Morty to choke, who tried to back away, but Rick grabbed him by the head with both hands, continuing to push through the humid and obscene noises that came out of his grandson's mouth.

With a grunt of pleasure Rick came into Morty's mouth, filling it completely with sperm.

The man knelt down, taking Morty's chin between his fingers and looking at him with a satisfied smile. The boy kept his mouth shut, waiting.

« _Eres un buen chico obediente,_ you c-can swallow now ».

Morty swallowed, her eyes full of tears and her lips as red and swollen more than ever.

Rick pulled him close, kissing those hot lips once again.

« This, lil shit, is t-the only flavor I w-want to feel on you », he ruffled his sweaty hair before getting up and sitting on the swivel chair, sliding along the work surface and returning to work on his invention as if nothing had happened. Morty stood up in turn, only eager to take a shower.

« Ah, Morty... what was the concert like? », Rick asked him without even turning around.

The boy did not reply, showed him the middle finger even if he could not see it and left the garage, headed upstairs.


End file.
